Towering Inferno ... not so much
I went out to Southern California for GenCon SoCal (the West Coast version of the biggest gaming con). This is the third year, and my third visit. Since I was able to use Northwest frequent flyer miles and stay with Jeff and Cynthia on his hotel points (free, and on the 17th (concierge) level, no less!) how could I not go?I had fun, though there were a few disappointments (I never got a chance to get into the unofficially scheduled Delta Files games, nor run any myself; of the two Blackmoor modules I went to play, only one ran; and the GM never showed for Savage Worlds). On the plus side, my Living Death character (Miss Evangeline Pennyworth, Lady Archeologist) now has a gentleman Egyptologist courting her; I played a great game of Angel (I was Cordelia, and the guy who played Angel was a real hottie, with a striking resemblance to Grissom from CSI); and I did get to play one of the Blackmoor modules, even if I did have to bully them to get it to happen.
So, anyway, back to the Towering Inferno... My return flight was at 6:45 am on Monday, so I went to bed around 9 pm on Sunday so I could get some sleep before getting up at 3:30 am to shower and catch the shuttle to the airport. Around 11:15, alarms started going off and a voice announced that there was a fire and we needed to evacuate. Jeff quickly confirmed there was smoke in the hall, and I urged them to go on ahead while I found and donned my pants. And grabbed my fanny pack (phone, palm, wallet) and room key. Then I shuffled down 17 flights of stairs, one at a time on my cranky arthritic knees. A nice lady (Rayne? Raeyna?) stayed with me to make sure I didn't fall or get left behind.
It was an extremely orderly and courteous evacuation. Everyone got out safely, and the hotel staff was great, bringing us tablecloths to lay on on the wet grass, blankets and bottled water. I have this theory about gamers in crises - we spend so much time simulating danger and heroic reactions that in a real crisis, we don't panic. The hotel was 98% full, they said, and I think it was emptied in record time.
I thought to turn on my cell phone, and Cynthia called me (or maybe I called her - I was pretty groggy) and she told me she was camping out in the lobby of the hotel across the street.
After an hour and a half or so they let us back in, taking us back up to our floors in groups of eight. The fire had been on the 11th floor, and everything was under control, if somewhat smoky smelling. The fire marshall remarked that everything had worked according to plan - people evacuated safely, the sprinklers went off and the hotel staff all hit their marks flawlessly. If you've got to have a hotel fire, that's the way to do it.
About half an hour later (I had just gone back to sleep) the alarms went off again. Cynthia phoned me and told me she thought I should evacuate again. I dreaded the thought of going down 17 flights again, and they hadn't had the verbal announcement, so I phoned the front desk. "We're just evacuating floors 1 through 4 - the fire's been found and put out already."
So I went back to sleep. I woke again when Jeff and Cynthia came back, and shortly thereafter my alarm went off. *sigh* So much for my plans to get some sleep before my flight...
I found out the next morning that the fires (five in all) had been set by an arsonist, and they caught him. Evidently he'd shown up on all of the security cameras and they didn't have any trouble catching him. Idiot. Also, by 4 am there was NO smell of smoke in the halls or the elevator. I sure wish I knew how they did that - amazing!
I did get some sleep on the plane on the way home (sharing my row with a drowsy Russian Blue kitty named Oscar and his owner, whose name I never got). The last leg (Detroit to Lansing, don't ask why I flew OVER Lansing and came back) was the worst, with a screaming toddler in the seat in front of me. Even though I'm not a parent, even I can tell the difference between "I'm hurt" "I'm scared" "I'm hungry" "I'm wet" and "I'm just going to throw a major tantrum to get attention." Ghaaaa. I spent most of the twenty-five minute flight with my hands crammed over my ears, trying to shut out the excruciating, piercing shrieks. The father said as they were leaving that she'd done it all the way to California once. I swear, I heard pride in his voice. Some people shouldn't be allowed to breed...
The kitties, enduring their first trip without Uncle Reimer, were very affectionate (and continue to be so). My neighbor was worried because they didn't appear to have eaten much. It turns out the little monsters chewed through the bag in Piper's "Hairball Light" formula and were eating out of the hole. Devious. No other word for it. If they had opposable thumbs, cats would rule the world.
Today I reported for my first temp assignment since Thanksgiving (English Language Center)... only to be told at 2:30 pm that "The office staff doesn't think you're a good fit" and be sent on my way. I'm completely freaked out -- I was only there five hours (I had an hour for lunch) and hadn't had a chance to do anything, right or wrong. It's rejection on a very deep and personal level, and I can't adequately describe how much it hurts. I have no idea what it was that caused such immediate revulsion, but it's really undermined any self-confidence I might have had any illusions of harboring.
To say nothing of another week without pay...
Where's Jae?
